Latin Lovers: Hot-Blooded Sicilians: Valentino's Love-Child / The Sicilian Doctor's Proposal / Sicilian Millionaire, Bought Bride. Catherine Spencer

had all crystallized when he said he wouldn’t marry her—at any cost. Once he knew about the baby, that attitude would change, but the underlying reasons for it wouldn’t. She knew that. Just as she knew that a marriage made for reasons of duty and responsibility was the last kind she wanted.

      It was one thing to marry someone knowing you loved them and they only liked you and found deep satisfaction in your body. But to marry someone you knew did not want to marry you and did in fact see something so wrong about you that they would marry someone else over you, that was something else entirely.

      She wasn’t sure she could do it.

      But could she take the baby from Sicily, from its family and raise it alone, knowing it could have a better life in its father’s home country? She didn’t know. Thankfully, that decision did not have to be made right this second.

      She forced her frozen limbs to move, and slid into her car, turning on the ignition.

      She drove toward her home while those questions and more plagued her. Plagued by a question she told herself did not need an immediate answer. Her mind refused to let it go, the only eye in the storm of her emotion being that she had no intention of revealing her pregnancy until she was through the more-dangerous first trimester.

      At that point she would have to have answers.

      Though she normally saw the older woman at least once a week, Faith managed to avoid showing Agata the pregnancy statuary. Faith promised Tino’s mother she would be the first to see all the pieces for the new show she was putting together for a New York gallery. Faith had sent pictures of the pieces she’d been doing to a gallery owner on Park Avenue who loved TK’s work. The woman had called Faith, practically swooning with delight at the prospect of doing a show for the fertility pieces.

      Like her emotions, Faith’s work swung between hope and despair, touching on every emotion in between. It was the most powerful stuff she’d done since the car accident that had stolen her little family. As much pain as some of the pieces caused her, she was proud of them all.

      An art teacher had once told Faith’s class that pain was a great source of inspiration, as was joy, but that either without the other left an artist’s work lacking in some way. Faith was living proof both agony and ecstasy could reside side by side in a person’s heart. And she had no doubt her work was all the better for it, even if her heart wasn’t.

      Tino tried calling Faith several times, but his calls were sent straight to voice mail every time. He left messages but they were ignored. He sent her text messages that received no reply either.

      He could not believe his affair with Faith was over.

      He wouldn’t believe it.

      She wasn’t acting like herself, and he was going to find out why. And fix it, damn it.

      Morning sickness was just that for Faith, with the nausea dissipating by noon. While that did not impact her ability to work much, it did make it more difficult on the days she taught. She’d considered canceling her classes for the first trimester, or withdrawing all together. She doubted they would want an unwed pregnant woman teaching art to their children; it was a traditional village. However, she saw little Gio only on the days she taught and she could not make herself give up those visits, brief though they were.

      She loved the little boy. A lot. She hadn’t realized how much she had come to see him as something more than a pupil, something like family—until she broke things off with his father and contemplated not seeing the precious boy again. She simply could not do it.

      He was as sweet as ever, showing he had no idea she was now persona non grata in his papa’s life. He hung back after class to talk to her and she enjoyed that. Today, though, he was fidgeting.

      “Is something the matter, sweetheart?”

      He grinned. “I like it when you call me that. It’s like a mama would do, you know?”

      Suppressing the stab of pain at his words, she reached out and brushed his hair back from his face. “I’m glad. Now, tell me if something is wrong.”

      “Nonna said I could invite you for dinner.”

      “That is very kind of her.”

      “Only, Papa said you probably wouldn’t come.”

      “He did?”

      Gio looked at her with pleading eyes only a heart of stone could ignore. “Why won’t you come again? I thought you and Papa were friends.”

      “I didn’t say I wouldn’t come.”

      “So, you will?” Giosue asked, his little-boy face transforming with the light of hope.

      “When does your nonna want me to come?”

      “She said this Friday would be good.”

      “It just so happens I am free this Friday.”

      Gio grinned with delight and gave her a spontaneous hug that went straight to her heart.

      Perhaps it was foolish to agree, but she couldn’t stand to see the hurt of disappointment come into Giosue’s eyes. Besides, Faith had told Tino that she had no intention of giving up her friendship with his mother and son. And she’d meant it.

      Being pregnant with Giosue’s sibling and Agata’s grandchild only made those two relationships more important. Tino wasn’t going away and she needed to work on her ability to be around him and remain unaffected. The dinner invitation was an opportunity to do just that.

      Her unborn baby deserved to know his or her family and Faith would not allow her own feelings to stand in the way of that.

      Besides there was a tiny part of her that wanted to show Tino he was wrong and that she could handle being around him just fine.

      Just a small part. Really.

      CHAPTER SEVEN

      LESS CERTAIN OF HER ABILITY to withstand Tino’s company unscathed than she had been in the safety of her art classroom, Faith rang the doorbell of the big villa.

      The door opened almost immediately, making her heart skip a beat. However, it was only Giosue on the other side.

      Relief flooded her, making her smile genuine. “Good evening, Gio.”

       “Bueno sera, signora.”

      She handed him a small gift.

      “What is this?” he asked, his voice tinged with anticipation mixed with confusion.

      “It is traditional to give one’s dinner host a gift. I forgot yours when you invited me before, so I’ve brought it tonight along with one for your grandmother.”

      “Because this time she invited you?”

      “Exactly.”

      Gio looked at the present and then up at her, his eyes shining. “Wow. Can I open it now?” She nodded.

      He ripped the package apart with the enthusiasm usually reserved for the young and sucked in a breath as he saw what was inside. They were leather gardening gloves made to fit a child’s hands.

      “I didn’t know if you already had a pair … “

      “I do, but they are made of cloth and not nearly so nice. Come, I want to show Nonno.”

      She smiled, glad her gift had gone over so well, and followed Gio to the lanai, Agata’s favorite place to entertain. When they arrived, she saw both Agata and Rocco, but no Tino.

      Relieved at what she was sure would be only a temporary respite, Faith watched Gio run to his grandfather to show him the new gloves.

      Agata smiled in welcome and hugged Faith, kissing both her cheeks. “It is good to see you.”

      “Come, Mama, you speak as if it had been weeks rather than a few days since the last time you